


A Midnight Text

by thepalewalker (orphan_account)



Category: markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Antisepticeye Sean McLoughlin, Darkiplier Mark Fischbach, First Meetings, M/M, free form, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-14 14:05:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13009425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/thepalewalker
Summary: Darkiplier when relaxing at home gets a text from Jack in the middle of the night._Darkiplier meets Antisepticeye. I ignored canon Darkiplier origins because I don't really understand it.





	1. Chapter 1

Darkiplier was already settled well into his host’s weak form. His influence easily took control when the human rested, and the young demon had free roam during the night with the world as his playground.

During the day, he would observe Mark’s life carefully, his friends, family, and behavior, to ensure that when he had full control, he would not be suspected. Dark had everything working smoothly, routinely.

Until one day, he was relaxing late at night in his bed, scrolling through the infinite commentary of Twitter to be more familiar with world politics and such. Then, an urgent message from Jack appeared on his screen.

“Mark, please, I need to talk to you,” it said.

With a huff, Dark replied. “Yes? What is it?”

“Look, I’m here in LA. Meet me.”

Dark raised an eyebrow as he was sent an address that he didn’t remember hearing before. And seeing how Darkiplier had a photographic memory, this was odd if it was a regular meeting place of the two. However, if there was one thing that defined Mark, it was how dedicated he was to his friends. Dark had to go, and he rolled out of bed with a groan.

“I wanted to have an uneventful night to myself, but noooo… that needy little Irish bitch had to get in the way of a perfectly pleasant evening,” he muttered angrily to himself as he pulled on a crumpled pair of jeans and a red t-shirt. It was far from his preferred attire, but he had been forced to downgrade greatly because of Mark’s lifestyle in many more ways than one. It was not the most pleasing situation, but the influence that Markiplier provided as a personality would most likely pay off somewhere in the future. For great endeavors sacrifices must be made.

It was a twenty minute ride to the road that Jack had specified, and the closer he got, the more nervous Dark was. This wasn’t normal for any of the parties involved, that was for sure.

He gently swung open the car door and stepped onto the sidewalk. Up and down the abandoned street were old street lamps that flickered on and off erratically. Dark shifted uncomfortably in the darkness before pulling out his phone and quickly sending another text.

“Where are you?”

It took a minute for a reply to appear on the screen.

“L̴̏ͮ̇oͪ̄͛o̷ͧͮͫ̿kͦ̀͠ ͮuͬ͒̈́ͭ͆p̓͋̒̒̀̉̚͝.ͥ̈́̍̃͝”

A quiet giggle rippled through the abandoned street. Although Dark had faced many great terrors throughout his long life, a chill still raced down his spine as he recognized the laugh’s strange quality, how it seemed metallic and unnatural. His gaze narrowed as he stared up, trying to make out whatever he was supposed to see in the darkness. As his eyes finally adjusted, he saw a black shape hanging down from the bar of the street light before him. He stepped back, his arms tense and twitching with power as he prepared to face whatever had lured him here for unknown purpose.

“Marky~... Nice to see ya. I really needed a chat, ya know?” the figure said.

“Who are you?” Dark said with a cruel tone.

“Just a realization, my friend.”

Dark didn’t understand, but he didn’t have to, because at this line, the figure leapt onto the street into the light. It was Jack, that was for sure, with green hair and pale skin and blue eyes, but his body was riddled with cuts and scratches, and as Not-Jack pulled himself up to a standing position, Dark was presented with Jack’s face, but in his left eye socket was a bright blue iris with a sickly green-tinted sclera.

They both stood there silently for a moment, staring deep into the other’s eyes without a word.

Dark burst out laughing. “Oh, oh, this is too good, too good! First him, now you. Aw, how clever you are, Fate!”

Anti stared at him, his face scrunched up in annoyance. “You aren’t getting the gravity of this situation!” On the last word, he swung wildly towards Dark’s head with the knife he clutched in his palm, but Dark easily grabbed Anti’s wrist before he was even grazed. The knife trembled close to his ear, and Anti stared at him incredulously.

“Oh, I know fully well what is going on,” Dark pulled the knife from Anti’s hand and turned away from him, fingering the blade with a fondness. “What shall I call you?”

“Anti. Wait, what? When did? But I-?” 

Dark was suddenly in front of Anti again, the knife to his throat. Anti stared at the blade, then back at Dark, then back to the blade.

He stepped back, then began to laugh. A piercing, shrieking laugh that shouldn’t come from any human throat, a laugh that put nails on a chalkboard to shame. “HAHAHAAHahahahahaa… You’re like me! Suppressed to keep away the truth, am I right?”

“Actually, no? I’m not quite sure what you mean,” Dark murmured, taking a step back and letting the knife relax.

“You know the true meaning of this life, yes? You’ve seen the infinite, the untouchable, and came back changed, right?” Anti’s eyes were filled with hunger and need, and his position was hunched. He reached out towards Dark with clawed hands, his head lolling to the side. “You know what we need to do.”

Dark readjusted himself and handed the knife back to Anti with a slight smirk. 

“Sure.”

Anti seized the knife and jumped back, landing on all fours and staring up at Dark. He tossed the knife up once and readjusted it to a position more suited for stabbing than for slashing. 

Dark’s fingertips gathered shadows around them as he prepared for the other’s inevitable charge. Anti leapt at him with the agility of the a tiger, his knife aimed for Dark’s neck, and Dark reached up to once again stop the blade, but at the last moment, Anti twisted in midair, and the knife slashed Dark’s side, tearing his clothes and flesh.

Dark stepped back, his hand pressed to the wound as Anti caught himself on the pavement and began running back towards him. A fist flew towards Dark’s jaw, but as knuckles flew through the place where Dark’s head had been, Dark sidestepped and grabbed Anti’s hair, using it to throw him to the side with a grunt.

Anti sprawled onto the pavement for a moment before he forced himself to his knees. He opened his arms and smiled wildly as Dark approached him. Dark’s fist was slowly enlarging with material shadow, claws formed and spikes running up his forearm. He looked down at the deranged version of Mark’s friend with scorn, and he raised his hand to finish off this quick job.

As the tensed claw came down, Anti jumped forward, grabbing Dark’s wrist and using it to fling himself towards his face. Suddenly, Dark dissipated into shadow. Anti tumbled onto the ground, rolling once before digging his knife into the pavement to stop his moment. His eyes swung around wildly as he searched for his prey. Then, he felt a foot press down on his neck.

He squirmed around it as he tried to see the face of the oppressor. Dark pressed his other foot onto Anti’s fingers, forcing him to drop the knife. Dark kicked it away.

Kneeling down, Dark whispered into Anti’s ear. “So, how was that?” But, his face turned up in confusion as Anti forced out a strained laugh, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

“You-... you…” Anti gasped for air, and Dark let up the pressure slightly so Anti could speak. “You understand, right?” Anti grabbed Dark’s foot, lifting it up, and rolled over so that he was staring into Dark’s face. He laid his hands on Dark’s calf, seizing his pant leg. “I’m lesser than you, nothing but dirt. It’s your right to use me, abuse me, then throw me away like the trash I am. That’s the way the world is…” Dark experimentally pressed his foot deeper into Anti’s chest, and received a moan in response.

Darkiplier wasn’t used to this kind of reaction. Screaming, pleading for your life, among other things were all acceptable reactions, but he was almost disgusted at the masochism displayed by Anti. He quickly pulled away, adjusting his clothes and shaking off his boots as if he had been contaminated by the mere presence of the being.

Anti looked first rejected, then annoyed, before smiling in jubilation.

Dark turned away from him. “Leave me. Send Jack back when you are done with him.” He was about to return to his vehicle, but he sensed a presence behind him just a moment too late. A knife thrusted into his shoulder, the pain shooting through his mortal body. 

Gasping, the demon stumbled forward, and he grunted as the metal was ripped from his back.

Blood was now leaking from his shoulder and his side, and blood lust was gleaming in Anti’s eyes, the unnatural green and blue one slightly off-kilter compared to his normal eye.

Dark took a moment to consider it. “Fuck it.”

Mark suddenly jolted awake, and almost screamed at the pain that was shooting at his body. He fell onto his back, staring up at the figure before him. “Jack? What’s happening? How did-” he coughed and winced. “How did I get here?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Next thing happens

Anti watched as the dark glow faded from Dark’s eyes, the posture of superiority slumped away, and the pure Alpha-ness that had been before him melted into the childish puddle that was Markiplier. He wasn’t sure if he should be happy about this.

“I guess he was a coward. Left little Markimoo all by his lonesome,” Anti murmured, leaning down and stroking Mark’s cheek.

“H-holy-- Fuck, Jack, what’s going on? What’s with your eye? You’re bleeding, oh God, who did this to you?” Mark grabbed Anti’s shoulders, shaking him slightly. His eyes were filled with worry and confusion.

Anti laughed a little. “Oh, these?” he said and gestured to the long, thin, but not deep cuts that ran across his arms. “They’re fine. They stopped hurting a while ago. Kinda sad.”

“What? I-”

“But that isn’t the point, Mark,” Anti quickly cut him off. His hand sneaked from Mark’s face to his shoulder. The muscles tensed beneath his touch as his already-bloodied fingers snaked towards the open wound upon Mark’s shoulder. It was not as deep as it had first appeared: Anti had been holding back on that last strike. But it was bleeding, capillary bleeding with a slow, even flow.

“Tell me what’s happening, Jack.”

“I’m. Not. Jack!” Anti’s fingernails dug into the bleeding wound, fresh blood spurting from the severed blood vessels. Mark let out a yell, shivering and trying to pull away, but Anti shoved his knee into his thigh. Mark couldn’t understand the transformation that his long-time friend had gone through, he didn’t truly see the hunger in Jack’s eyes that had replaced his kindness and sincerity. 

Tears began to leak from Mark’s eyes from the pain and the uncertainty that he was faced with. This stranger who had taken the body and mind of his friend, who was hurting him.

“Jack,” he whimpered. 

“Oh, grow a pair. It doesn’t hurt that much!” Mark continued to cry pitifully as Anti sighed. “Huhhhh. Fine, if you’re so hung up on it, take a swing at me.”

Anti pressed the knife in his hand into Mark’s. It still dripped with the blood from Mark’s own body, and the red streams ran down down his wrist before dripping slowly onto the ground. 

The hum of the electric lights filled the quiet moment as Mark stared at the blade in his hand. Anti gently pressed Mark’s fingers around its wet handle, smiling gently, almost comfortingly.

Anti grabbed Mark’s head and, pressing his lips to Mark’s ear, whispered softly. “I hurt you. I fucking stabbed you, Mark. An eye for an eye... Just take it. Take the shot. Do it. I’m not Jack, right? You can see that at least....”

The hum began to deepen into a high trill. Tears mixed with blood on the cold, black pavement. The two figures, one sprawled out on his back, the other kneeling upon his leg, both sprayed with swashes of maroon stain. 

Mark raised his arm and slammed it down.

 

His forearm landed on Anti’s shoulder as Mark pulled the body of his friend into an embrace. The knife fell to the pavement with a clink, and both simply sat there, frozen, for a moment.

“Jack, whoever you’ve become, I’m never going to hurt you, even if you fucking kill me right here. Because I care about you. I care about you so much. So do what you need to do! Do whatever it is you’re gonna fucking do, right now!” Mark squeezed tighter, pressing his tear-stained cheek into Anti’s shoulder, waiting for the pain. Any moment now, he thought.

Until Jack’s shoulders began to quiver, and a droplet of liquid dripped onto Mark’s arm.

Mark pulled back, staring at Jack: the green and blue eye had fallen out of his eye socket and was crawling away into the sewer as Jack clutched his eye, blood dripping down his cheek.

“God, Mark, what’s happened?” Jack said with a whispy tone, as if waking from a dream.

Mark gazed into Jack’s single remaining eye as the man winced and drew his hand away from his eye. He let out a laugh of relief.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. You’re here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is shorter! I just wanted to wait till the next chapter for the next events.

**Author's Note:**

> I love criticism! Tell me how to make it better, ask for stuff you want me to put in it, request new stories you want me to write, whatever! I can't get enough of that kind of stuff. Thanks for reading my first story on here.


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